


Proof Of Life

by Otonymous



Category: MLQC: Fandom, Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice (Video Game), love and producer
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Near Death Experiences, Violence, physical aggression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 16:09:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19771762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otonymous/pseuds/Otonymous
Summary: What will it take for you to finally notice Gavin?





	Proof Of Life

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I got a few requests for a NSFW MLQC Gavin story, so here it is! Hope you all enjoy it, and happy reading!
> 
> Please note potential trigger warnings in the tags!

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Several sharp knocks on your windowpane tell you all you need to know about who you would find once you opened your eyes. But you were glad you remembered to draw the blinds the night before, because the last thing you wanted was for Gavin to see you as you are now: hair a messy nest, eyes swollen and red-rimmed, and yesterday’s outfit a wrinkled mess on your body.

 _“Why can’t he use the goddamn door like a normal person?!"_ You think in irritation as you drag yourself out of bed, running a hand over your hair and pulling on a house robe before you snap back the curtains.

Sure enough, there he was, the officer smartly dressed in his uniform and giving off an air of authority despite the nonchalant way he leaned against the ledge of your balcony, a plastic bag in hand. Mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton, you swallow hard before sliding open the glass door.

“Good morning, Gavin. It’s kind of early—“

“You didn’t answer your phone.”

He says, immediately brushing past your shoulder to enter the room. A gentle breeze follows him, ruffling the curtains as he had so often ruffled your hair. And as he casts his gaze on the mess that is your apartment, you shudder to speculate on his thoughts about your current living conditions: lopsided piles of notebooks sprouting across the floor, clothing strewn haphazardly across your unmade bed and couch, and empty cup noodle containers littering the kitchen.

Bringing your hands to your face and wishing you could hide forever behind them, you massage your temples, hoping to ease the building tension that would surely worsen once Gavin opened his mouth to speak the same lines he had been repeating for the past few weeks since —

“Lucien has left. The man is gone, he’s not coming back. And nothing you do is going to change that. So why do you keep torturing yourself like this?”

He turns to look you square in the face, the usual warmth of his eyes replaced by burning indignation on your behalf, flashing with anger that you yourself still could not bear to direct on the man who disappeared without a trace, leaving nothing but an empty apartment and an equally empty promise to never leave your side.

Gavin was right. Of that fact, there was no doubt. But still, you could not help but feel compelled to continue seeking out the dark-haired genius who captured your imagination and stole your heart from the very moment he told you to trust your instincts.

_The heart wants what it wants._

And so you threw everything into trying to locate Lucien, foolishly allowing the rest of your life to devolve into little more than subsisting on the barest of necessities.

The officer’s face softens at your silence, broad shoulders dropping as he finally relents and thrusts out the plastic bag he had been holding, the most delicious aroma wafting from within to remind you of your hunger.

“Your favourite breakfast combo from the place up the street: congee and shrimp rice rolls. All those cup noodles can’t be good for you.”

You fight back the sting of tears when you take the bag from him, hoping his sharp eyes will miss the shake of your hands as you open the styrofoam containers, saying,

“Thank you…Gavin.”

Lips tugging up into a small smile, he reaches out to tuck an errant lock of hair behind your ear before saying, “Hurry up and eat. I’ll give you a lift to work.”

* * *

So it was that weeks became months and verdant summer bled crimson into fall, and every time the wind whipped past you on the back of Gavin’s motorbike, your grip on the professor loosened until you learned what it was to let go of another important person in your life.

You had no more leads to follow when it came to Lucien’s whereabouts, and even his peers at the research institute were at a loss to explain the professor’s sudden sabbatical leave.

But through it all, Gavin stayed by your side.

He was there when the last of your hopes had been dashed, fingers intertwining with yours to tentatively squeeze in solidarity as you left Loveland University with more questions than answers. It had been his arms that held you in their firm embrace when you threw that jar against the wall, the glass shattering to litter your apartment floor with tiny folded cranes and even tinier shards of glass. The officer had watched, silent and solemn, as you cried for Lucien one last time, reaching out hardened hands to brush away your tears with the softest of gestures.

The school terror had become your constant companion, and the windblown smell of his denim jacket a source of comfort: warm and familiar whenever Gavin unceremoniously draped it over your shoulders as soon as you showed signs of feeling chilled in dropping temperatures.

But the seasons weren’t the only thing to change.

Little by little, you began to notice things about him that escaped you before: smiles that lit up his face just as he’d turn from your direction, the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks whenever you thanked him for escorting you home. The way you felt to see him linger on the street below your apartment, waiting for you to wave through the window before finally riding off into the night…all despite having seen you to the door.

And each and every time your heart skipped a beat, the flutter scared you. For although you had given up on Lucien, the wound of losing him was still painfully fresh, and it was not lost on you that Gavin had been the one to patiently draw you out from that place of darkness where you had been wallowing.

_But what if lightning struck twice?_

_Would you lose Gavin too, the way you lost Lucien?_

The thought was too much to bear — to lose a lover but also a friend — so you chose not to think, ignoring it like you ignored the longing in his hazel eyes every time you shut the door without inviting him in, your fingers tracing the golden ginkgo leaf on your wrist that still held the heat of his touch.

* * *

It all happened in breathtaking clarity, as if time had slowed enough for you to see Gavin whip between yourself and the man in black — the scent of blood permeating the air as a bullet burned through flesh and nylon before embedding itself into a brick wall.

By the time Minor’s face appeared before you — eyes wide and lips moving a mile a minute — you heard not a word he said, so fixated were you on the crimson marring the pristine white of Gavin’s windbreaker, the radius of this ugly spot growing larger each time his bicep flexed to handcuff the suspect pinned beneath his knees.

Yet, in the resultant commotion, the officer’s eyes sought yours to confirm your well-being even though he had been the one to sustain an injury. And it isn’t until his brows furrow in concern that you realize you had been shaking from head to toe, your body acutely processing your fear before your mind could even catch up to what it was that scared you:

_Gavin hadn’t even been wearing his bulletproof vest when he moved to cover you without a second thought._

Minor drapes his jacket over your shoulders, drawing you from your reverie.

“It’s okay bro, I’ve got the boss! You go ahead and take care of that scum…and your arm too! Get to the hospital!”

“Where the hell were you, idiot?! Didn’t I tell you not to leave her side?!”

Minor slinks behind you, trying to hide from Gavin’s scowl.

“I turned around for one second and she was gone, I swear! How was I supposed to know the boss would go running after a little girl crossing the street and get attacked by this loser?”

“Screw up again and it’s your last time!”

“Okay, okay! Whatever you say, bro!”

The exchange between Minor and Gavin was typical, and as a member of this triad of Loveland High alumni, you were usually amused by their antics. Currently, however, you could barely find the strength to speak, let alone laugh.

So you let Minor escort you home in the officer’s stead, craning your neck to stare at Gavin’s retreating figure through the rear window as the car pulled away from the scene of the crime, feeling less shaken by your brush with danger than the one thought that torturously echoed through your mind:

_Gavin could have died._

* * *

Patient.

He really was so patient. Much more than you deserved.

For Gavin remained still as a statue as your hand wound about the collar of his white tee, the other scrunched into a fist that beat repeatedly into the hard plane of his chest. Even still, it was from _your_ eyes that tears spilled, ceaseless and hot…eyes that saw only Gavin.

You knew it now, felt it deep in your bones from the moment your fear of losing him stole your reason to turn desolation into blinding fury, one that made you rage the second you saw him at your door. And with one yank on his denim jacket, you had pulled Gavin into your apartment, pushing him until he lost balance and ended up on the couch with you straddling his lap, fists flying with wild abandon.

“What were you thinking, throwing yourself in front of me?! Who the hell do you think you are?! Superman? Are you invincible?!”

 _Thud. Smack. Thud._

The officer sits without reacting, stoically taking every shot you have to deliver.

“Why would you go that far, Gavin?”

The heat of your anger finally dissipating through sore fists, the question leaves your mouth in a whisper — tears dripping down your face to glance off the apple of Gavin’s cheek before they, too, trace the lines of his jaw.

“You know why.”

His voice is low and raspy, and you wilt under the intensity of his gaze, turning your face away before you drown in the depths of his eyes, dark with emotion.

“Don’t look at me, I’m a mess.”

Calloused fingers gently tilt your chin back in his direction, Gavin saying,

“You’re always beautiful…but even more so when you’re crying for me.”

He sweeps a thumb across his cheek, gathering your tears to bring them to his mouth, and you are entranced by the pink tongue sweeping out to taste the salt of your frustration.

“Even your tears are sweet, just like you.”

“Gavi-“

The name barely leaves your lips before it is swallowed up by the soft plushness of his, the officer angling his face in a bid to move even closer, tongue exploring your mouth with an unfathomable hunger that leaves you breathless.

Losing yourself in his kiss, you feel the press of his solid chest against your breasts as he shifts to lay you on the couch beneath him. And when he pulls back to rip the jacket from his shoulders, the white tee thrown off in one frenzied motion, your fingers seek the heat of his skin, desperate for proof of his existence.

Desperate to confirm that Gavin was alive.

He clasps your hands, pressing a reverent kiss to each palm before bringing them to his face, allowing them to slide past his Adam’s apple, down the broad smoothness of his chest, running along the muscular grid of his abdomen…until they stop at the leather belt looped around the tantalizing V that drew your eyes to the obvious bulge in his pants.

“Feel me. I’m here with you — always have been and always will be. Don’t be scared. I’m not going anywhere.”

A flood of relief stings your eyes anew, and panic flashes across Gavin’s face for an instant before he bend over you once more, whispering as he kisses your tears away,

“Shhh…it’s okay…it’s gonna be okay…”

Never in your life did you imagine this would happen, that you’d have the boy feared for his pugilistic skills lying between your legs, hands roaming hot and hungry over the curves of your body but, frustratingly, keeping above the silk of your blouse.

Hence, you took it upon yourself to undo the buttons, fixated on the bob of Gavin’s throat as his eyes followed the minute motions of your fingers, the officer’s lips parting in awe to see your breasts heaving with anticipation beneath your bra until that, too, was discarded. His voice reaches out like the touch of a tentative hand when he says,

“This is more than I’ve ever dreamed of, but...are you sure this is what you want?”

Through a rapturous haze, you watch as flecks of gold melt in the warmth of hazel eyes that examine you carefully, searching for any sign of hesitation. And that’s when you knew you didn’t have to hold back.

Wrapping your arms around Gavin’s neck, you draw him closer to whisper in his ear,

“I love you.”

The sudden ruffle of your curtains startles you, as do the papers on your desk that swirl like leaves caught in a fall wind before settling to the ground in a messy pile. And when Gavin gently cups your face to refocus your attention, the last thing you see before his lips seal upon yours is the exhilarated joy that lights his face from within, the officer softly laying his reply onto the corner of your lips:

“I’ve always loved you.”

Biting into your fist, you try to keep your moans from escaping when you look down to see Gavin kneeling on the carpet, strands of silken brown hair tickling your belly with the slightest movement of his head between your legs, his large hands stroking the length of your thighs to leave trails of goosebumps in their wake.

Each time his tongue flattened to run along the pink flesh of your folds, trembling and wet, you slid further down the couch until your legs found the support of Gavin’s shoulders and his hands gripped your buttocks to knead and spread — lips and tongue continuing to taste your arousal with gusto until it smeared shiny across his face.

And when the tension built to reach its apex with every flick of his tongue on your clit, Gavin kept you suspended on that high until he inserted one finger…then two, to curl within your depths and pull the trigger on your climax. You came violently, convulsing around his hand and bucking into his face as waves of pleasure coursed through your body, ripping the moans from your mouth and adding another shade of crimson to his cheeks.

The officer stands, one hand whipping off his belt as the back of the other wipes across his shiny lips. You barely have time to gasp as you take in the sight of his sizeable erection before Gavin is wrapping your trembling legs around his tapered waist.

“I’ve wanted this…”

The heat of his cock is searing as Gavin presses against your pussy, smooth head sliding up and down the length of your folds to gather the arousal that dripped in abundance even as you continued to twitch from your orgasm.

“…wanted you…”

Pressure, as he pushes insistently for entry. The stretch of your skin when you start to take him within your body, accommodating the man who was willing to die for you.

“…for so, so long.”

_Gasp._

Your eyes roll back when he finally sheathes himself within you, the officer’s breath coming in pants moist and hot by the side of your face. He hisses through clenched teeth to feel the scrape of your nails down his back before he recovers to say,

“Could you cry for me again?”

With that, Gavin thrusts deeply into you to bury himself to the hilt, each stroke from his powerful hips reaching greater depths than the last until your eyes watered from sheer intensity of sensation, mouth falling open in a silent scream before it is sealed by his lips.

Every bead of sweat that rolled off his shoulders to evaporate from the heat of your skin. Each muffled groan against the shell of your ear. The slippery friction that moved within you to send you to ecstatic, new heights. All these things told you, without a doubt, that Gavin lived.

And when he finally shudders, you spasm to feel the heat of his release, convulsing around him for the second time to draw him closer to you than ever before.

Pressing his forehead to yours as he slowly descended from his high, Gavin says, “It’s true. I meant every word I said.”

You nod, kissing him in response. For the thunderous beat of his heart already told you everything you needed to know:

Gavin is alive. And he is yours.


End file.
